With the departure of Offspring, on top of so many other changes, I hit a bit of a funk.  Understandable, everyone assured me, but I can also tell they want me out of it quickly.  Apparently resting bitch face is one thing, but actual blank serial killer stare is too much.

 

 

 

Enter my friend Natalie, who had three days off in a row.  Now, you or someone you love might have two or three or even four days off at any given time and think nothing of it, but when an ER nurse in a city with serious crime and drug problems (to say nothing of the people stuffing inappropriate items up their butt problem, based on her stories*) gets three days off in a row, it’s a clear sign that we need a girls day.  An actual burning bush being put out by a rain of frogs couldn’t have convinced our husbands any better.

 

We settled on facials, which is an activity in the sense that you might have to adjust your position at some point and the esthetician doesn’t breathe for you; other than that, it’s about as close to being an inanimate object as you can get without actually dying in that blanket cave.

 

Husband, bless his simple heart, was supportive in his own way.

 

ME:  (fiddling with phone)  Good thing I thought to text Natalie… I had her address in wrong.
HIM:  They’re right off the highway.
ME:  Oh, well that’s fine then.  I’ll just get off the highway somewhere and start looking for their house.
HIM:  Glad I could help.
GPS:  Getting route…
ME:  No, no, I just need the—
GPS:  Turn right on—
HIM:  (lifts head off pillow)  Are you taking me in the car?  Because I really don’t want to go.
ME:  (looks down at naked self)  Obviously I’m not dressed for it!
HIM:  Not necessarily.  “Put on pants” is not part of the directions.

 

 

Since you asked; no, I did not put on pants.  Not real pants anyway.  I managed leggings and a comfy sweatshirt, and only convinced myself to wear a bra in deference to the bitter cold.**  But we’re not really here to talk about how cold my ass got, are we?

 

This is about hot towels.

 

We ended up getting body treatments in addition to our facials; mine came with a massage  and this thing where they draped hot, steaming towels on my back and I had an epiphany.

 

Why, oh why aren’t more things in life accompanied by a hot towel?

 

Seriously, I wouldn’t even mind getting a speeding ticket if the officer offered me a hot towel while he took my information.

 

OFFICER:  Do you know why I pulled you over?
ME:  (freaking out)  No?
OFFICER:  Ma’am, I’ve got you doing 87 in a 45.  (brandishes radar gun)
ME:  (tearing up)  I… I didn’t see the sign?
OFFICER:  License and registration, please.
ME:  Yes… just let me…
OFFICER:  Have you been drinking?
ME:  No!  I’m just…  (hands over documents)
OFFICER:  Would you like a hot towel?
ME:  (sniffles)  Yes please.
OFFICER:  (pools hot towel on my face)  How’s the temperature?
ME:  (much calmer)  Oh, that’s perfect.  Thank you.
OFFICER:  I’m gonna go get that ticket for you now.
ME:  Mm’kay.  You do what you gotta do.

 

See how much better that is?

 

And we have the technology!  Those warming bags we’re using for pizza delivery, that plug into a charging port/cigarette lighter, could easily be repurposed to allow an officer to carry a dozen or so hot towels at any time.

 

 

Let’s make this happen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* And you know I beg her for a new thing we pulled out of someone’s butt story every time I see her.  They’re the best.

 

** Ah, the joys of the frozen North, where we experience biblical flooding one day, watch it all freeze the next, and call it “spring.”